I have a very real fear of being considered boring. Not real in the sense that I am boring, just that I worry about being considered boring. Which is weird for me because I also like to think I don’t worry much about what others think but clearly I do. I’m a woman of contradictions, ok? I’m not afraid to admit it.

I’m brought to this conclusion by the events of the past two days (and also the rest of my life leading up to now 😉). We’ve been staying at the chateau of cognac house Pierre Ferrand and, during our stay, we’ve had to go on tours/socialise with people we’ve never met before. As a rule, I’m not a huge fan of big groups where I don’t know anyone so my first response was to quietly freak out and retreat into my shell. The introvert in me won the first round. Then the performer came out… I’ll explain why.

I have a thing about people who come to events, parties, dinners, etc. and, in my words, “don’t add any value.” Yes, I’m aware of how bitchy this makes me sound and yes it’s mean but I can’t help it. Despite being an introvert myself when surrounded by strangers, I always have this phrase in the back of my mind and it’s a rare social event that this mantra doesn’t force me to be more social, despite lacking a natural inclination to do so. Back to that fear of being considered boring. No one puts Nat in a corner, if you will. 😉

So, on our first night in Cognac, we’re surrounded by boozing Brits, Americans and various other strangers and most of me wants to hide in my room (to be fair, I was also quite tired) but the other part says, “No, you’ve got to get out there and be fun. Get on, hop to it.” And so I did. I jumped in the fountain with everyone, balanced a wine glass on my ass, challenged people to boules and upped my banter game to 11. When my social energy ran low, I went and sat in our room and headed back down when I felt recharged. I often feel like there’s a fun me and a quiet me and, on that night, the fun me won.

Last night, we were at dinner with the owner/master blender of the cognac house, his mentor and one of his distributors and the distributor’s wife. The conversation around the table was in English so I was thankfully able to participate but the distributor’s wife didn’t say much. I think it may have been more of a language barrier thing or maybe she was tired (they had a full day of tours and tastings) but this is exactly what I fear for myself when I’m out and not “on”. She was fine when you specifically engaged her or asked her a question, which I did a few times, but aside from that she was very quiet. Which, of course, she’s allowed to be. She’s not there to entertain anyone or be their all-singing, all-dancing ra-ra girl and she was a-ok with that.

But the thing is… I’m clearly not. Not for myself anyway. And, if I’m honest, usually not for others when there isn’t a good excuse. So it’s a very rare day when I won’t be able to somehow pull myself out of my shell to work my supposed charms in a group setting. Because, for me, one of the worst things you can be is boring and I often don’t care how much it costs me.

So in an effort not to mention the terrible shit show that is going down in the United States right now, I’m going to waffle on about how my new work from home gig is going. As of Monday, I’ve been from home and, I’ve got to say, it’s pretty damn sweet. I’m not cutting around naked or in my peejays quite as much as I’d expected but I’m feeling very productive (which would have to be the main thing, I suppose). Now it is only the first week and I haven’t had any hiccups of any kind as yet so we’ll see how that pans out but so far so good.

As part of my role as the new “social media guru” (ha!) for two of his bars, I had to go into one of the bars to get some pics of the cocktails for their new menu (and give my valued opinion on the quality of the drinks, of course). The bar is one of Jared’s new ones and I don’t actually go there very often. As a result, I barely knew any of the staff so I kind of felt like it was my first day of school. Will they like me? Will they accept me as one of their own? Or will they shun me and pretend I don’t exist? Well, I needn’t have worried (obviously, some might say). Everyone was very nice and friendly as well as very patient when I had to get photos of the drinks before anyone could try them (at Jared’s insistence) so, overall, I felt very included, which was a great weight off my mind.

Through reading this blog, you may have guessed that I’m much more of a word-y person than I am a visual one. I can appreciate a nice photo but I’m much more active on Facebook where words are more important (says me) than I am on say Instagram where it’s all about the sweet snaps (don’t even talk to me about Snapchat, not interested). I hardly ever take photos unless it’s of something that’s going to instil jealously in all my friends (that or make them laugh). So, while the captioning is fun and feels a bit more natural, the photography is going to require a bit more work from me. Plus Jared is a hard task master with a very particular idea of what he wants and likes. That being said, by the end of the cocktail tasting, I had a few shots in the bank that Jared gave the tick of approval so I think I just need to get some practice. Oh and get over my incredible self consciousness at being that person who’s always photographing everything and has to get the ‘perfect shot for Insta’.

At least Ican rest assured knowing that my being that person can be solely attributed to Jared’s desire to have a beautiful IG feed for his venues. Oh, and my desire to take on the job, I suppose I can’t forget that. Hmmm… this is all on me, isn’t it? Damn it. I hate it when that happens.

Anyone that’s been reading this blog for any period of time would be pretty well versed in my complicated relationship with friendship. There are very few people that I immediately warm to let alone become super close friends with and I really struggle to trust anyone. And, after finding this image in a Google search, maybe that’s what I am. A cat in a human body trying to find human friends with cat-like instincts. But I hate cats so the thought of this is actually quite distressing to me. Plus, if that’s the case, I think I’m taking this cat attitude to friendship to a level even cats would be like, “Lady, you need to chill the fuck out.”

God, the way I agonise over this shit, you’d think I was deciding who’s going to be the last person on the planet with me, not just who I want to be friends with. I’m succeeding in making something that should be fun (hell – it’s friendship, for fuck’s sake!), super difficult and not fun in the slightest because I’m too busy second guessing every. single. interaction. I have with someone.

I get all inside my head about what a ‘real’ friend is and who gets to be let into my inner circle (like it’s such a fabulous place to be). I make regular commitments to myself that I’m done with this person, that I’m giving that person another chance, make blanket statements about not being so hard on people and then a few weeks later crack the absolute shits and swear off anyone that’s ever said no to anything I’ve ever invited them to. Ok, I’m exaggerating now but not really all that much.

Surely it can’t just be me? Or maybe it is. Fuck, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m such an incredibly accomplished overthinker that even the smallest social thing becomes an Everest in my mind. However, my usual see saw of emotions has been rather extreme of late. Thankfully, the benevolent Natalie has come out to play (the malevolent Natalie is a real bitch) and I’m going to try to put my misgivings and distrust aside. Nobody’s perfect, least of all me, and it’s about time I learn to appreciate the people who make an effort. Or to at least give those people a chance.

Life is short and it can’t hurt to let people in every now and again. Actually, I suppose it can but, if you spend your whole life bundled up in steel wool, you’ll find yourself quite cold and lonely eventually. Or hot and lonely, if it’s summer. Does steel wool heat up? I don’t know and besides this metaphor has done it’s job. I’m going to face dive onto the couch and pretend I don’t have any responsibilities in life.

I’m pretty sure I’ve previously mentioned my less than social nature. As a child, I paid close attention to what Ima Safety House said (one for the Australians amongst us probably) and I’ve carried those lessons into adulthood. For the non-Australians, Ima’s basic lessons are this: strangers are bad. Strangers are dangerous. If one approaches you, run to the nearest house marked with the Ima Safety House logo and tell an adult. Nowadays, if I can’t get to my very own private Ima Safety House (read: my own home), I run to a bathroom and lock myself in a cubicle until I feel the stranger danger is gone. Or I gravitate towards a corner and stare intently at my phone until the stranger gets the message.

Don’t get me wrong, in the right mood (and with enough alcohol), I can be the life of the party. In fact, in the right mood and even sometimes without alcohol, I can still be exceptionally witty (if I don’t say so myself). Still, it’s not really in my nature when it comes to big groups of strangers. In this type of scenario, my nature usually includes a decent sprinkling of social awkwardness. Let me tell you the story of a recent predicament I found myself in.

I’ve started an internship at the office of a local media/advertising website. It’s nothing flash – just half a day on Friday afternoons (or mornings or the whole day if I want). I just go in and make myself useful (the exact definition of an internship, I suppose. Good thing I cleared that up). Last Friday was my second day/week. I know exactly one person and I sit next to her and she acts as my go-between to the rest of the office. They give her stuff for me to do (and so does she) until it’s time for me to leave.

Last Friday, she told me they ran a really successful event so they were having champagne and beer and general merrymaking at whatever o’clock. Cue a slight thrum of panic in my chest. I hate these kind of things. It’s bad enough when you have to socialise with people you barely know, never mind people you don’t know at all. Plus, you’re only a lowly intern so why would they want to waste their time talking to you?

My first thought was, ‘Am I due to be finished work by then?’ Sadly, the clock informed me that my own personal hell was meant commence one hour before my official finish time and I didn’t think chucking an ‘I have to get the fuck out of here right this instant’ would go down well. Or maybe it would have. Perhaps my fear of disappointing people is worse than my fear of socialising, which is an interesting insight into my psyche now that I think about it.

Back to my panic in the office – I would’ve much preferred to keep working on whatever menial stuff they’d thrown my way. I don’t care how boring it is. I’d rather keep staring at my computer than make excruciating small talk with someone that can’t wait to escape. Data entry? You got it. Socialise? Please god no. I know this is how you eventually turn an internship into a job (or maybe not, I don’t have a clue. I’m just happy to be seeing what these people do) but I. just. can’t. do. it. In fact, if I tried, I think I’d quickly nix any chance of them ever wanting to hire me because I’d come across as such an utter numpty they’d be like, ‘get this awkward chick the fuck out’.

Turns out I needn’t have worried; those 30mins – 60mins of panic were totally uncalled for. Alcohol was delivered to our desks and everyone just kept working. Or everyone in the editorial team did anyway. The events team stood around and drank and chatted. I don’t know, maybe that says something about writers. Or maybe not. I don’t really care. I’m still too busy congratulating myself on escaping a potentially disastrous social experience. I would say one day I’ll get better at these things but nope. That would be a lie.

​I know a lot of people and am generally quite social but there are only a few people I’d call close friends. It takes a lot for me to feel like I’m really close with someone because I’m a naturally private person who doesn’t trust much or let many people really know me. Even with my close friends, I’m more of a listener than a sharer. The people who know stuff about me are usually people that ask or go digging for it as I won’t usually naturally volunteer much more than superficial information about myself.

I’m also very easily turned off by people, which is a pretty big flaw of mine. The smallest thing will make me go from really liking someone and making an effort to be their friend to never wanting to see them again. In 99.9% of cases, it’s totally me overreacting to some non-issue but nonetheless the feelings are there and it’s very hard for me to turn them off, even when I know they’re irrational.

To make matters worse, I’m not very comfortable in big groups. I’ll rarely accept an invitation to a big event where I’ll only know one or two people. I tried to force myself to step outside my comfort zone in situations like this a few years ago and, while it wasn’t all bad, there were enough unpleasant ones to make me realise I just wasn’t suited for these types of social gatherings. I’ve missed friends’ hens nights, birthday parties and girls’ nights out because I was terrified of not knowing enough people and/or being that poor sucker following one person around all night.

It’s also a good thing I’m a ‘planner’ (someone who organises get-togethers and social events for my group of friends) because, and as much as I hate to admit it, it lets me control who I hang out with. If someone else was the planner, I would have to hang out with their choice of friends and that would most likely be very unpleasant for me. This actually happens to me occasionally as I have another friend who likes to plan stuff but I generally don’t end up going because she has a totally different friend group and I end up feeling horrendously out of place.

It sounds terrible, I know, but this is my rationale when it comes to these things. I only want to spend time with the people I like. I only want to meet new people on my terms. If I must spend time in a big group, there needs to a critical mass of people already known to me. If these things are not present, I’m usually that anti-social person engrossed in their phone or I’m that person getting super-hammered at the bar to make myself ‘interesting’. And I do hate being that person.

Making new friends as an adult is a very strange thing (for me, at least). I meet a lot of people, both at work and socially, and some of them I hit it off with right away. The trick is then how do I convert these newfound acquaintances into friends?

As someone that considers herself occasionally socially inept, it’s tricky. I’m very paranoid about coming on too strong or too needy. How many texts is too many? Is organising a dinner too intimate or should we just plan to meet at a bar or for lunch or coffee (or herbal tea, in my case)? My partner and me do a lot of dinners with couples. Who is appropriate for this type of invitation? Is it enough to know just one member of the couple and then meet the other at our chosen social adventure?

And then, of course, there’s my insane level of sensitivity to rejection. If I invite someone to something and they can’t make it and don’t suggest an alternate date, I feel slighted. Do they not want to hang out with me, like ever, or is it just that particular day that doesn’t work and they didn’t think to suggest another one? Because maybe they’re not a compulsive planner like me (outrageous, I know). I have people that I invite to things all the time and they never make it. Should I take that as a sign?

I remember when my partner started working really long hours at his previous employer and could rarely do anything of an evening. So, if I wanted to go out, I had to go ‘alone’, sans partner, that is. For a while there, I chose to do nothing. I would stay at home and people would message me on many occasions and I would say no, not this time, sorry. I appreciated their messages and that they were thinking of me but I never actually got myself up and out of the house.

Eventually, they stopped asking me and I felt even more isolated. It took a long time and a D&M with my partner for me to realise that, yes, in fact, I did need to interact with other people, even if it meant doing it on my own. Hell, these people were my friends. What was the big deal? (It was social awkwardness and a perceived lack of money but that’s a story for another day.) Is that what’s happening here? Well, maybe not that exactly but the same general concept; that I should not give up on people because they say no a few times.

Writing this blog makes me realise the ridiculousness of what goes through my head sometimes. It can be so easy to overthink things and convince yourself that people don’t like you when, in fact, they’re just busy. If you’re meant to hang out with someone, persevere and you will eventually. And, in the meantime, you have other – confirmed – friends you can hang out with. Presumably.